"TAKE NOTHING FOR THE JOURNEY."

Homily for Sept. 25th, 2013: Luke 9:1-6.

          “Take nothing for the journey,” Jesus tells the Twelve as he sends them out “to proclaim the Kingdom of God and to heal the sick.” He wants those whom he commissions as his messengers to travel light. They are to depend not on material resources, but on the Lord alone.

          Jesus’ words are especially relevant today. All over the world, the forces hostile to the Church are rising. In our own country the government is trying to impose on Catholic organizations, such as Catholic hospitals and universities, conditions which we cannot, in conscience, accept. We are being asked, for instance, to pay for sterilization and abortion. In Ireland, unlike the United States a historically Catholic country, there is even an attempt to pass a law which would compel priests, in certain instances, to violate the seal of the confessional. TV entertainers air gross jokes about Catholic priests which they would not dare making about Muslim imams or Jewish rabbis. And the media show little interest in reporting studies which show that Christians are the Number One target of religious persecution in the world today.

          We rightly lament this tide of anti-Christian and anti-Catholic sentiment. But it has a good side as well. Whenever in its two thousand year history, the Church has been favored by the powers that be, whether financially or in other ways, it has grown spiritually flabby and weak. The Church is always at her best in times of persecution. When persecution is raging it is difficult, mostly impossible, to see this. Things become clear only when we look back. So let's look back.

In recent centuries the most violent attack on the Church came in the French Revolution, which started in 1789 and lasted more than a decade. Thousand of priests were murdered under the guillotine. Most of the French bishops fled the country. Those who remained had to accept restrictions on their ministry which they justified on the plea that there was to other way to continue offering the sacraments to God’s people.  

         As the Church moved into the nineteenth century, however, there was an explosion of religious vocations in France, and the foundation of an unprecedented number of new religious orders, for both men and women.

          When we grow discouraged at the hostile forces confronting us, we need to remember: God can bring good out of evil – and he does, time and again!

LIVING BY GOD'S LIGHT

Homily for Sept.23^rd: Luke 8:16-18.

          The short sayings which Luke gives us in today’s gospel immediately follow the parable of the sower and the seed. Much of the seed the farmer in that story sows never comes to fruition. The parable describes the Church’s work in every generation. Despite the failure of so much of our efforts, some of the seed we sow falls on good ground, puts down roots, and produces not only an abundant harvest, but a super-abundant one. Jesus told the story as an antidote to discouragement.  

          In today's brief reading Jesus continues to speak about the good news of the gospel. It is like light, he says, set on a stand at the entrance to a house for all who enter to see. Jesus is telling us that the light of God’s truth is given to us, like all God’s gifts, to be shared. If we don’t share the Lord’s gifts, we lose them. We can’t keep them unless we give them away.

          How do we share the light of God’s truth? We do so first of all and always by the way we live. St. Francis of Assisi used to say: “Preach the gospel at all times; when necessary use words.” People must be able to see that we live by higher standards than those of the world around us, with its emphasis on getting rather than giving; and on repaying injuries according to the slogan, ‘Don’t get mad, get even!’

          Jesus’ final saying seems to be unfair: “To anyone who has, more will be given, and from the one who has not, even what he seems to have will be taken away.” Jesus is saying that if we truly walk by the light of God’s truth, sharing that light with others – at least by the way we live, when necessary and possible with words as well – we shall receive more light. If we keep the light of God’s truth for ourselves, we shall gradually lose that light until we find ourselves walking in darkness.

          Remembering how the Holy Spirit came to Jesus’ friends at the first Pentecost in the bright light of fiery flames, we pray in this Mass: “Lord, send us your Holy Spirit.”

TRUE RELIGION

Homily for Sept. 22nd, 2013.

25^th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C. Amos 8:4-7; 1 Tim. 2:1-8; Luke 16:1-13

AIM: To show the need for a decision for Jesus Christ that carries over into daily life.

          “Prepare a full account of your stewardship because you can no longer be my steward.” The man in the story we have just heard has been squandering his employer’s property and is about to lose his job. Following the custom of the day, Jesus calls the man a steward. We would call him a manager. Jesus’ world knew nothing of bookkeeping or audits. A wealthy estate owner, like the man in this story, simply had to trust the man who ran things for him. In this case the owner finds out that his trust has been abused. Probably the manager has been lazy and irresponsible, running the business entrusted to him in a slipshod and careless manner. Most likely his employer has warned him before, perhaps many times, telling him that if doesn’t shape up, he will be history. 

          Now, with the knife at his throat, the manager suddenly develops enterprise and initiative which, if only he had shown these qualities before, would have made the business prosper rather than stagnate. Facing ruin, the manager calls in all his employer’s customers and tells them that if they will make partial payment on the amounts they owe, he will mark their accounts “Paid in full.” He is counting on these people to take care of him after he’s fired. Instead of altering their IOUs himself, and risking discovery of the swindle when a later investigation shows that the fraudulent documents are all in his hand, he has the debtors write up the new receipted bills themselves.

          Now comes a surprise. “The master commended that dishonest steward for acting prudently.” From antiquity Bible commentators have disputed about who is meant by “the master.” Is he the man’s employer – or Jesus himself? It is difficult to believe that the praise can have come from an employer who has just told his manager that he is about to be fired. So the praise must come from Jesus himself.  How is that possible? Prudent the manager may have been. But honest? Hardly.  How can Jesus praise what all can see is a swindle?

          Jesus does not praise the manager’s dishonesty. He praises the man’s ability to recognize his desperate situation. For him, it is now or never. Jesus addresses the parable to those who remain indifferent to his message. The story is Jesus’ attempt to shake them out of their complacency. His message confronted them with the need to decide: for him, or against him. To postpone this decision, to continue living as if nothing had changed, with the attitude of “business-as-usual”, was in fact to decide against Jesus. That meant disaster. Trapped in what looks like a hopeless situation, the manager cleverly found a way out and acted while there was still time. It is this cleverness and enterprise which Jesus commends, not the man’s dishonesty.

          Jesus Christ asks us for the same decision today: for him, or against him. It is not a once-for-all decision – something like learning to ride a bicycle: once you’ve learned, you know it for life. Our decision for Jesus Christ needs to be renewed every day. For me it starts with something as simple as getting out of bed when my clock radio comes on at 5.15 in the morning. Only if I rise then can I prepare for the Mass I celebrate five days each week at 6.30 by waiting upon the Lord in silence for a full half-hour beforehand. That time with Him, and the Mass which follows, nourish me. They are the sunshine of my whole day. Without that hour spent with the Lord whose uniform I wear, though unworthy, I’d just be spinning my wheels.

          Our first reading tells us, however, that the decision which Jesus asks of us goes beyond prayers and church-going. The people whom the prophet Amos was addressing in that reading were like some Catholics today. They knew all their religious obligations. They were careful to fulfill them. Once they had done so, however, they considered that the rest of their lives was theirs to live as they pleased. Careful to observe the law of Sabbath rest, they could hardly wait for the Sabbath to be over so that they can resume cheating the poor on weekdays.

          They fix their scales and measures to give people less than they are paying for. They take advantage of people temporarily unable to pay their debts, like a ruthless money-lender who forecloses a mortgage after a single missed payment, so that he can buy the property himself at the sheriff’s sale for a fraction of its true worth. Amos even portrays these people gloating over their profit from the sale of junk food: “Even the refuse of the wheat we will sell!”  The prophet’s condemnation of these outwardly religious but deeply dishonest people is crushing: “The Lord has sworn ... Never will I forget a thing they have done!”

          That first reading is a warning against an over-spiritualized religion, which puts church-going into a separate compartment from what we do the rest of the week. The second reading extends that lesson. The command Paul gives there to pray “for kings and all in authority” sounds routine to us. In our country those in authority are still relatively friendly towards Christians. Sadly we must say “relatively,” because we are witnessing a growing and powerful tide of opinion in our country which insists that religion is a purely private affair which must never influence public policy. When we protest, for instance, that abortion victimizes both women and their unborn children, we are told that this is a private religious view which must not be imposed on society. In protesting abortion, however, we are not imposing anything. We are proposing, with arguments to support our position. Those arguments are not drawn from religion. They are based on what medical science tells us about human life at its beginning. We propose. We give reasons. Then we vote. That is how democracy works. 

          These three readings have a message for us today. The gospel confronts us with the need for a decision: for Jesus Christ, or against him. Amos’ denunciation of rich, hypocritical worshipers in the first reading reminds us that church-going is not enough. If our decision for Jesus Christ does not carry over into daily life, then all our Masses and prayers are worse than useless: they can bring down heaven’s condemnation. Finally, Paul’s command in the second reading to pray even for godless and anti-Christian rulers warns against an over-spiritualized religion. Our Catholic faith may indeed have to do with heaven. So long as we are here on earth, however, our faith has to do first with the here-and-now. We are called to work with all people of good will to build a just society, insisting as we do so that morality is not merely a matter of personal opinion, but that there are moral truths which are applicable to all.

          Is that a tall order? You bet it is! That is why the Lord Jesus gives us the guiding light of Holy Scripture, the teaching of his Church, and the strengthening power of his Body and Blood in the Eucharist. Thus enlightened and strengthened, he sends us back to our everyday lives. It is there, outside church walls, that our decision for Jesus Christ is put to the test. There, in everyday life, we encounter God afresh: not as we encounter him here, in his word and sacrament; but in the world he has made and in those who, like us, are God’s daughters and sons.

"I DID NOT COME TO CALL THE RIGHTEOUS, BUT SINNERS."

Homily for Sept. 21^st, 2013: Matt. 9:9-13.

          “As Jesus passed by, he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the customs post.” Matthew was a tax collector. He was not the kind of tax collector we know today, a civil servant. In the Palestine of Jesus’ day the Roman government of occupation entrusted the collection of taxes to tax farmers, as they are sometimes called, who bid for the right to collect taxes. In doing so, they enriched themselves by extorting more than the government required. They were hated, therefore, for two reasons: for preying on people financially; and for serving the despised Roman rulers of the land. 

          Jesus speaks just two words to Matthew: “Follow me.” Without hesitation, Matthew gets up and follows Jesus. Other disciples of Jesus have already done the same, when, at Jesus’ command, they abandoned the tools of their trade as fishermen, their boats and nets, to follow Jesus. What motivated this immediate obedience? I think that if we could have questioned any of them, Matthew included, they would have replied: “There was something about this man, Jesus, which made it impossible to say no.” 

          As a parting gesture Matthew invites his friends to dinner at his house, with Jesus as the honored guest. As we would expect, many of those friends were Matthew’s fellow tax collectors. Others were simply “sinners,” as the gospel reading calls them: Jews, like Matthew, who did not bother to keep God’s law.

Observing these disreputable guests, the Pharisees, proud of their exact observance of God’s law, ask Jesus’ other disciples how their Master can associate with such ruffians. Jesus supplies the answer himself: “Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. … I did not come to call the righteous [by which Jesus means ‘people like you Pharisees’]. ‘I came to call sinners.’

What is the message for us? If we want Jesus’ loving care, we need first to recognize and confess our need. And the first thing we need from Jesus is forgiveness.

THE IMPORTANCE OF WOMEN FOR JESUS

Homily for Sept. 20^th, 2013: Luke 8:1-3

          Who were Jesus’ disciples? The Twelve, first of all, chosen by Jesus to represent Jesus’ desire to reconstitute the twelve tribes of Israel. They were all men. Traveling along with them, Luke tells us in today’s gospel, were women as well. A modern Bible commentator writes: “It was not uncommon for women to support rabbis and their disciples out of their own money, property, or foodstuffs. But for [a woman] to leave home and travel with a rabbi was not only unheard of, it was scandalous. Even more scandalous was the fact that women, both respectable and not, were among Jesus’ travelling companions.” Today’s gospel is one of the many pieces of evidence we have that Jesus rejected the second-class status of women in his society.

          The first woman mentioned, Mary of Magdala, a small town in Galilee, is clearly not the woman “known in the town to be a sinner,” whom we heard about in yesterday’s gospel. Luke is clearly telling us about a woman he has not previously mentioned. The information that “seven demons had gone out of her” refers to healing from sickness. The number seven in biblical thought represents fullness. Her healing is now complete.

            The next woman mentioned, Joanna, is married to a high government official: Chuza, the manager of the estates of Palestine’s ruler, Herod Antipas. This Herod was hostile to Jesus. If his steward Chuza was the royal official mentioned in the 4^th chapter of John’s gospel who asked Jesus to heal his son, as some commentators believe, and who “became a believer” when the boy was cured, this would explain why he allowed his wife to minister to Jesus.

          Later it would be women, not men, who were the first witnesses and messengers of the resurrection. Despite all this evidence of the importance of women for Jesus, it was to men alone that he gave the command at the Last Supper, to “do this in my memory.” This helps explain why still today only men are ordained to the priesthood. Bl. Pope John Paul II told us that the Church has no power to alter Jesus’ clear intention and command.

A SINFUL WOMAN'S GRATITUDE

Homily for Sept. 19^th, 2013: Luke 7:36-50.

          Let’s get one thing straight right away. The “sinful woman in the city” whom we have just heard about in the gospel is not Mary Magdalene. Luke will mention Mary Magdalene just 2 verses after the close of today’s gospel reading; yet he says nothing to suggest that she is the same woman whose over the top behavior he has just described. Nor is there any convincing evidence that this “sinful woman,” as she is called, is a prostitute. There are plenty of serious sins which are not sexual. 

          Jesus is dining in the house of a Pharisee, a man proud of his meticulous observance of all the details of God’s law. “If this man were a prophet,” Jesus’ host says to himself, “he would know who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, that she is a sinner.”

With his unique ability to read the human mind and heart, Jesus perceives at once what his host is thinking. Jesus is a prophet. He has already read his host’s unspoken thoughts. He responds by telling the story of two debtors. One owes a sum equal to 18 months’ daily wages; the other’s debt equals a worker’s pay for just 50 days. When both men tell their creditor they cannot pay their debts, he says, ‘Forget about it.’ Which would love the creditor more? Jesus asks. The answer is obvious. We can see the Pharisee’s resentment at having to give this answer by the frigid words he speaks: “The one, I suppose, whose larger debt was forgiven.”   

Jesus then contrasts the formally correct welcome he has received from his host with the extravagant welcome of the sinful woman. Her behavior is the response, Jesus says, to my forgiveness of her sins. This causes the other guests to ask: “Who is this who even forgives sins?” To which Jesus responds by telling the sinful and now forgiven woman: “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.” Without claiming in words to be divine, Jesus acts as only God can act.

The story reminds us of something which Pope Francis never tires of telling us: God never grows tired of forgiving us. It is we who grow tired of asking for forgiveness. And the story challenges us with an insistent question: Are we even half as grateful for God’s merciful forgiveness as this sinful woman?

"THEY ARE LIKE CHILDREN . . . "

Homily for Sept. 18^th, 2013: Luke 7:31-35.

          Jesus speaks often of children in the gospels, usually in a positive sense. He tells us, for instance, that we cannot enter the kingdom of God unless we “become like little children” (Mt. 18:3; cf. Mk. 9:36, Lk 9:47). When his disciples try to keep children away from Jesus, he rebukes them, saying that anyone who welcomes a little child “welcomes me” (Lk 9:48). In these and similar passages Jesus is recommending the sense of dependence that children have. It never occurs to small children that they can make it on their own. He is also recommending children’s ability to wonder – something that most of us lose, as we grow up, though artists and great saints retain the sense of wonder at God’s creation into old age.

          In today’s gospel Jesus speaks about a negative aspect of childhood. Grieved that too few of his own people have responded either to his cousin, John the Baptist, or to himself, Jesus compares them to children who reject every approach of those who reach out to them in loving concern. ‘You complained that John was too strict and ascetic,' Jesus says in effect. ‘Me you find too laid back and merciful. What do you want?’ Jesus asks them.

          Children can be like that. I experienced it myself, in my own childhood. I might have been ten years old, or even younger, with a sister eight, and a brother six. I remember my father saying to another grownup, in a tone of resigned frustration: “My children are contra-suggestive.” I no longer know what occasioned this remark, but I can easily imagine it. Whatever my father suggested, by way of a leisure activity – whether it was a walk, a drive in the country, or a visit to a museum – we said: “Oh, no -- we don’t want to do that.”

          Most of us carry over this childhood stubbornness into adult life. We’d like to determine our own agenda, thank you. But of course we can’t. God set the agenda for us before we were even born. “My yoke is easy”, Jesus says, “and my burden light” (Mt. 11:30). Jesus’ yoke is easy, however, only if we accept it. Otherwise it chafes. How better could we respond to Jesus’ words in today’s gospel than to pray: “Not what I want, Lord, but what you want.”

"YOUNG MAN, ARISE!"

Homily for Sept. 17^th, 2013: Luke 7:11-17.

          Can there be anything more tragic than parents having to bury a son or daughter? The tragedy is deepened in the story we have just heard by the fact that the mother who must bury her son is the only child she has, and she is a widow. It was a man’s world. Women were the property of men in Jesus’ day: the property of their fathers until they married, then the property of their husbands. The Commandment, “Thou shalt not covet” lists a man’s wife among the things one must not covet. With her husband already dead, and now her son as well, this widow at Nain has no man to speak for her or protect her.

          This tragedy has parallels even in an age of women’s liberation. I remember as if it were yesterday standing as a young priest in a bleak and rocky cemetery in Arizona, where I had just laid to rest beside his long deceased father the only son of a widow named Nellie. Her deep Christian faith strengthened my faith then, and I continue to pray for her today. “There are my two men-folk,” Nellie told me when the prayers of committal were over.

          How could Jesus be indifferent to such grief? We heard in yesterday’s gospel about Jesus healing the gravely ill slave of a Roman military officer, to whom the sick patient was “very dear.” The young man being carried to burial at Nain is no less dear to his mother. Disregarding the Jewish law of ritual purity which said that one must not touch a corpse, Jesus unhesitatingly reaches out to touch the coffin saying: “Young man, I tell you, arise!” Whereupon, Luke tells us, the young man “sat up.” The Scripture commentators tell us that the Greek word which Luke uses for “sit up” is a medical term – hardly surprising when we know that Luke was what passed in those days for a medical doctor. Those who witnessed this miracle respond with the simple but powerful words: "God has visited his people."

          What better response could we make to this moving story than to pray the words of an old evangelical hymn: “What a friend we have in Jesus / All our sins and griefs to bear! / What a privilege to carry / Everything to God in prayer. / Are we weak and heavy laden, / Burdened with a load of care? / Precious Savior, still our refuge / Take it to the Lord in prayer.”